“Alright, listen up,” he told them. “The three of you will sortie immediately following this brief.” He stopped in front of Knight. “Your mission is simple, support the 88th Battalion as you are able, destroy any Tharcians that get in your way, and if you see survivors from the Motor Battalion, ensure they’re rescued.” He looked to Snow and then to Khan. “Am I understood?”
“Yes, Comrade!” They cried before snapping salutes. “We serve the Union of Mars!” Kennedy smiled at the display of patriotism.
“Excellent,” he said. “You’re dismissed.” The three turned and ran out of the room. Ballard’s eyes followed them out.
“Something about them reminds me of Wake,” he said. Kennedy shrugged.
“I don’t know, but I’m certain they’re not tubers,” he replied. “How was the visit with your daughter?” Ballard grinned, an unusual sight from the normally dour and cynical man.
“She was so excited to see me,” he said. “Remembered who I was and everything. She even still call me daddy.” He pulled his phone out from a pocket in his vest. Like all panzerter pilots, they wore light pants and an airy skintight top under a padded vest. Due to the weather, they also wore a layer of thermal underwear.
Kennedy couldn’t help but smile when he saw the little girl hugging Ballard’s broad shoulders. Despite missing her front teeth, she was all smile. He also noticed the doll she held resembled a Union pilot. I’ll have to thank Ballard and his daughter someday, for reminding me what the world after this will look like.
“The Cavalry have panzerters approaching,” Comidus said. “Lots of them, like two companies and a team?” Shit, I knew things were going too well.
“Time until contact?” Reiter asked. “Black Platoon, how are you holding up?” He stretched before grasping the Lowe’s controls. As he flicked the bum warmer off, he began receiving answers.
“4-14th’s screen is breaking contact,” Comidus replied. “They’re falling back this way.” So we’ll see them any second.
“Contact Regiment, maybe they send us some help,” Rieter said. “And pray the weather clears up so our drones can fight.” The Lowe held its rifle in its left hand, and it’s sword in its other. If they have more recoilless rifles, I might be in trouble. “Black Platoon, status?”
“Sorry!” Wesser replied. “We’re coming back your way, Black 3 and 4 sustained some damage and are going to fall back with White Platoon.” Rieter sighed.
“Roger, you and 2 fall in on me and Fox 7.” We’ll form a blocking position here. “Fox X-Ray, fall back as well, same with Gold 1-3, the rest fall in on us.” Rieter dared to look over his shoulder. Merlin Sr and Mo’s machines sauntered past behind him. Though it was hard to tell, it looked like the snow bags had done their job. I’ll need to push that up, the snowbag idea, I’m sure someone will hate it, but it works.
“1-11th Panzerter is sending Reinforcements,” Comidus said. “They’ll take the Cavs positions while they regroup, but their fifteen minutes out.”
“Everyone here that?” Reiter asked. “All we need to do is hold out for fifteen minutes.” Now they could hear the sounds of battle ahead. Iglasios raced past them and he felt his grip on the controls tighten. Wesser took a knee to Reiter’s left with Smith on Adamski’s 3 ‘o’clock. Gold Platoon’s three Iglasios filled the gaps between them. Finally silhouettes appeared on Reiter’s Cameras.
“Those aren’t tinhats,” Smith said nervously. Indeed, three dark shapes resolved themselves against the powdery haze behind them. They stood slightly taller than the tinhats they’d seen. Broad with thick armor painted in crimson with black highlights, Reiter grimaced at the sight of the fatmen. A beeping in his headset told him they were hailing him.
“I didn’t think red was your color Kennedy, ever here of camouflage,” Reiter spat. An unfamiliar voice laughed back at him.
“Oh no, he hates our paint job,” the voice replied. “But after today, so will you Mr Black Knight.” Reiter sprang up with his rifle ready. He missed wide. The fatman to the right returned fire with some kind of Gatling cannon. The shells perforated Wesser’s machine, and she collapsed.
Adamski and Smith sent controlled bursts at their attacker with Reiter adding his mag rifle to the fray. Someone managed to hit the cannon’s magazine. The explosion obscured the fatmen from view. Where are they?
His answer came through the smoke. One of the red fatmen swung a spear weapon at him. With a swift parry, he knocked the tip skyward. That’s a harpoon! An anti-ship weapon? The fatman pressed the attack, forcing Reiter to focus on defense.
Without his shield, he had difficulty guarding his flank. To compensate, he kept himself close to the fatman. I’ve got to put them down, my people need me.
“Fox 6, get back!” Stovepipe cried. Reiter sprang away from the fatman engaging him. Two Iglasios with tow cables tied between them rushed past. The fat man stabbed at them with the harpoon, but missed. The tow cables caught on their raise foot and the fatman collapsed. Good one down. Then a scream filled the net.
Adamski’s panzerter collapsed in a burning wreck. The fatman he’d been fighting whirled on Reiter, blazing away with strobe lasers. The Lowe soaked up the laser fire, and Reiter responded with his mag rifle.
As the rounds punched through his armor, the other fatman tore the arms off Smith’s machine before kicking it over. Reiter roared and put two in its head. The fatman stumbled away, hands outstretched like a blind man. His last opponent approached and drew the Sword-axe he’d seen fatmen use before.
“It’s just you and me, pal,” he said. “Still like your odds?” No answer. Reiter lunged. The fatman parried his initial blow, but the Lowe forced him to remain on the defensive. Finally, Reiter saw his opening, and knocked his opponent’s weapon into the air. He held the tesla blade to the fatman’s face as it raised its hands in surrender.
“You’re finished,” Reiter said. “As prisoners of the Republic of Tharsis, you’ll be entitled to-”
“I didn’t know you were this chatty,” the voice from before said. “Did comrade Kennedy talk to you this much?”
“6, behind you!” Stovepipe cried. Rieter heard a crunch below him and fought for balance. The fatman from before had managed to stab his ankle with their harpoon. Something shot into his machine and his ankle exploded. The fat fan in front of him shoved him. Reiter caught a glimpse of the sky before his head slammed against his seat.
With ringing ears, he fired his rifle into the fatman on the ground. The magnetic rounds punched through steel alloy to smash electronics and structure inside the panzerter. Alarms blared. The standing fatman stomped down on the lowe’s knee.
Rounds struck the fatman standing over him. The heavy machine staggered back as other panzerters fired on the machine. Iglasio’s blazed away with their auto cannons while dismounts crawled onto the downed one.
Reiter struggled to get his machine up and moving. Without a foot on one leg, and his opposite knee crushed, he had no chance of standing. So he rolled over onto his side and propped himself on his arms.
Unless I hit something vital, they’ll keep coming. Bringing his mag rifle to bear, he focused fire on the fatmans center of mass. Its movements stiffened as it struggled to escape. The fatman to his left stood and waved its arms as if the infantry were ants biting at it. Rieter noticed a flash and smoke poured from the fatman as it fled. More rifle fire struck its rear, adding to the smoke.
“Fox 6, are you alright?” Steele cried. Her damaged machine ran to his side. “The 1-11th’s reinforcements are here!” Reiter sighed, and he realized his mouth felt like cotton.
“Good,” he gasped. “Hopefully they help us with recovery, because we’re a mess right now.”
“All things considered, I’m impressed,” Meyer said. “The Red Guards not only destroyed several panzerters, but they defeated the black knight.” Kennedy tapped a gloved finger on his chin.
“They may have defeated it,” he said. “But let’s not forget, the black knight was all b
ut destroyed after the battle for FOB Blake, I’m sure it will be repaired soon.” Meyer returned to the battle map.
“But it won’t be able to stop us,” she said. “I would say we press the attack, but Comrade Todd squandered most of our infantry in that area.” Irving approached the map with her tablet.
“So Comrade Colonel,” she said. “Can you explain to me the role you envision motorized infantry have if not cannon fodder?” Kenedy grimaced and didn’t bother looking at the younger woman while responding.
“Motorized Infantry is more useful in holding town and cities then other units,” he said. “Their armor forces partisans to use IEDs, but they’re cheaper to maintain and replace than say a panzerter.”
“But they’re also the least trained arm of the infantry,” Irving replied. “This compressed training time, when combined with their cheaper equipment, makes them by far the most expendable forces we have.”
“They are still Mobile guards,” Meyer snapped. “They still have the best equipment and training in all the Union. These aren’t old world conscripts you’re talking about.” Irving raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. “Give me the Battle Damage Assessment.” Irving consulted her tablet.
“Well, the Tharcians held the field, so any that had been disabled or suffered a mobility-kill are lost,” she replied while tapping on her tablet. “Each company had 11 APCs with a crew of 10, so we’re looking at 17 APCs lost, along with nine panzerters, as for bodies it’s looking like 200 dead, missing, or wounded.” Kennedy shook his head.
“Unacceptable,” he said. “All of this could have been prevented.”
“With our current stop-loss capabilities, we’ll have all casualties replaced in two weeks, as for the vehicles,” Irving said. “You’ll have to speak to logistics, but most of the APCs can be replaced in about that time, same with the panzerters.” Meyer sighed.
“So that’s an entire battalion, out of the fight,” she said. “I’ll have the 88th take up the motor Battalion’s position, though I don’t want to delay much further.” Kennedy looked up from the map at the division commander.
“What do you mean?” he asked. Meyer pointed at the space between Grunbeck and Swizen.
“If we clear the forests through here, it opens up to the plains of Vaterland,” she said. “It’ll allow the forces North of the border to crash through and trap a lot of their armies, it will be the furthest a Union army unit got into Tharsis.” He caught a gleam of something in her eyes. Is that glory? Or is she seeing the path to victory?
“So that’s our final objective,” he said. “How do we plan to get there?” Meyer pointed to the south, at the little town of Riverside.
“Of the two, Riverside is the tougher nut to crack,” she said. “So we’d take these bridges to the north and act like we’re going to attack Swiezen, that’ll force the Tharcians to abandon Landfall while isolating riverside.” She made a hoping motion to the east of Riverside, pointing to the town of Narrowfield. “Then we land raiders in Narrowfield, surrounding Riverside, capturing vital farmland as well as a hydroelectric plant near Narrowfield.” She made a wide arcing motion past Grunbeck then Southeast. “And then we’ll make our final move.” Kennedy scratched at his chin.
“I like the audacity,” he said. “I don’t like how many points of failure it has.” He pointed to the bridges. “First, Todd bungled seizing these bridges, so if we try it again we’ll run into prepared defenses, not to mention the raider attack could go horribly, Comrade Santana is no Druza, and that’s not even starting with us overextending.”
“We’re relying on the speed of things to overwhelm them,” Meyer replied. “And without the black knight, I don’t see much stopping our panzerters.” Kennedy looked at Irving.
“Do you have a weather report?” he asked. She nodded.
“I do. Fortunately for us, snowstorms will keep Tharcian drones grounded,” she said. “For at least another week.” Kennedy frowned.
“That hurst our ability to use the raiders,” he replied. “But it does keep us safe from drone attack.” He looked back at Meyer. “I have a proposal.”
“I’m listening,” she said.
He pointed to the 88th’s position north of them. “Allow me to switch places with the 88th, this disaster is as much to blame on Guard-Colonel Fuller as it is on Todd, my battalion will have no issues moving out when needed, and we have multiple Heavy Panzerters.” Meyer nodded, cradling her head in her hand.
“That would add weight to our initial strike,” she said. “Yes, I’ll accept your proposal. You may move out once the Red Guards have been fully repaired.” Irving glanced at her tablet.
“Do I need to request a new pilot, or will you wait for comrade Snow to recover?” she asked.
“What?” Kennedy said. “When did she get injured? Is she in medical?” Irving nodded.
“She is, looks like she was burned pretty bad in the last battle,” she replied. Kennedy looked at Meyer.
“Once they’re repaired and Snow is fighting fit, that’s when we’ll move out,” he said. Meyer nodded as she issued an order with the battle map.
“Ok, I’m brining the motor battalion remnants here to take over your battalion’s duties,” she said. As Kennedy made for the door, he stopped and locked eyes with Irving.
“You’ve never been on a battlefield, have you?” he asked.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Just because I haven’t doesn’t mean I don’t make meaningful contributions,” she said. Kennedy shook his head.
“That’s not what I said,” he said. “But if you did, then all those numbers wouldn’t just be statistics now would they?” On that note, he left the command center and ran to the sickbay.
To the surprise of absolutely no-one, the other two guards sat near her. Knight looked no worse for wear, but Khan had bandages wrapped around his head. Snow lay in a rickety hospital rack. Her left arm and the left side of her head were wrapped in bandages filled with burn gel. An IV pumped painkillers and saline into her arm.
“How bad is she?” Kennedy asked. Knight stood and saluted before facing Snow’s bed.
“Third-degree burns to the side of her head and her arm,” he said. “Were it not for the medical staff here, she might have died from her injuries, still she managed to bring her Jupiter back under her own power.” Kennedy nodded.
“I’ll have to put all three of you in for an award,” Kennedy said. “Dispatching the Lowe is quite the feat.” Knight nodded.
“If I hadn’t been lucky, he would have killed us,” the giant admitted. “He bested all of us in hand to hand combat, fortunately we had him outnumbered until the very end.” Kennedy looked from snow to Khan and then back to knight.
“Well, you’ll have more opportunities for honor and glory,” Kennedy said. “I convinced Meyer to switch us with the 88th up north, so we’ll be the teeth of the next offensive.” Khan muttered something. Kennedy didn’t catch wind of it, but Knight pointed to the door.
“Go back to your quarters, Khan,” he said. “I’ll bring you dinner when the mess opens.” As Khan passed them, he said nothing else and left. That was odd. Knight was either telepathic or he noticed the shift in Kennedy’s demeanor. “Don’t mind that, he just really needs his alone time.” Kennedy nodded.
“An introvert, huh?” He checked his watch. “I hope you didn’t plan on eating with him, because I was going to have you and Ballard join me in the war room.” He looked at Snow while gripping the edge of the bed. “I have to admit, I wasn’t thrilled to be working with you guys, but you’ve proven me wrong, and I’m not afraid to admit it.” Knight smiled as Kennedy offered him his hand to shake. “I look forward to working with you.” The giant took his hand in an iron grip.
“I’m honored,” he replied. With that, Kennedy nodded and left the sick bay.
4
“Where are they?” Reiter asked as medics rolled him into sick bay. “Did I lose anyone? I need to know if my soldiers are ok!” He lay on a rolling tab
le in a neck brace with bandages around his head and restraints holding him down.
“Captain Reiter, you need to calm down,” one of the medics said. “You need to lie down.”
“Calm down or lay down?” Reiter asked. “What do you need me to do so I can check on my soldiers?”
“Yes!” a medic said firmly before bringing him to a stop. Reiter clawed at the straps holding him down.
“Captain Reiter, was it?” a soft voice asked. “I need you to lay down, we’re not sure if you suffered a neck injury or not, so please be still.” Reiter spotted dirty blonde curls at the edge of his vision, but the neck brace prevented him from looking further.
“Please,” he gasped. “I just need to know if my soldiers are ok.” I know we lost some infantry, that fatman definitely plastered some of them. He heard shoes click on the tile floor of the department store that served as a field hospital.
A young woman entered his field of vision. She wore a white nurse’s uniform with her matching Tharcian Red Cross cap barely containing her curly hair. Now that she stood closer, he could see shades of auburn in her hair that complemented her dark green eyes and olive skin. Freckles spattered across her warm smile as she held up a notepad.
“Give me their names and I can check for you,” she said. “You’re the last one they brought in.” Reiter tried to nod, but couldn’t in his brace.
“I told them I was fine,” he said. “Tessa Wesser, Akchetka Smith-”
“I’m right here, sir,” Smith called from the other side of the curtain to his left. “A little banged up, but I’m ok.” Reiter sighed in relief.
“Walter Adamski, Lionel Musat, Zukal, Henrietta Schottenheimer and the crews of the following vehicles, Gold 1, Gold 2, and Gold 3,” he finished. “I’d give you their names, but those last three were all crew commanders.” She scrawled down the note on her pad.
“Ok, I think we took an Adamski back for surgery, but I’ll double check,” she said. She walked around to Rieter’s left and he heard the curtain pull back. “There, now you can see your friend.” Rieter turned his head as much as he could to see the young man waving from his own bed.
Armored Warrior Panzerter: Eve of Battle Page 5
